Blossom
by Izzy Szenyan
Summary: The story of Cooke's blossoming into a young women, or, "How Cooke discovered she thought all of her female role models were hot." One sided Cooke lusting after Seth and Ming, as well as Seth/Ming together. Planning multiple chapters, but let's see how far it gets.


They trudged through the Black Caves, one foot in front of the other, holding on to each other for comfort.

Cooke was the eldest, so she went first, and Mack clung to the back of her travelling cloak like a scared puppy. Here the caves were narrow, so only one person could squeeze through at a time. Cooke and Mack found themselves in the middle of the line, between Seth, in front of them, and Jansen, behind them. Sarah and Ming brought up the rear, their voices, chattering away, the loudest sound to be heard, echoing back to them with the drips and creaks and groans of the caverns.

Cooke had a vague fear that their voices would bring unnecessary attention to their group, and felt that Kaim, taking the lead, must worry the same. But with all their sighs and slips and squeaky footsteps, things would find them whether they talked or not, she supposed. She tried to be as quiet as possible, tip-toeing along, her arms stretched out to either side of her, her fingertips not quite able to touch the walls on either side.

"Be careful," Mack said, his voice a low whisper.

She scoffed. "Don't be a wuss. There's nowhere to fall."

"Cooke, please."

But she just shook her head and kept on. Mack was really such a bore, sometimes, and not adventurous at all.

They came to a sharp bend, and the path emptied out into a large empty cavern. Multiple paths wound through the pattern, each lined with stalagmites, with bubbling, steaming liquid running just past and between each path. The ground was covered in it, with the risen paths being the only traversable areas. The group had paused to examine the cave, and Cooke took the opportunity to hold one hand over the liquid, as close as she could without burning herself, and felt the sweat start to rise on her palm.

"Woah."

"Cooke, stop!" Mack said. He swatted her arm.

"Hey!" Cooke retaliated, shoving him backward.

"Hey yourself!"

Soon they were a mass of tangled limbs and kicks and shouts and newly learned curse words (thanks to Jansen)

Jansen tried to intervene, but they had little respect for him in truth, and he got tangled up in it more than anything. "Heathens!" he cried.

Finally, Seth turned around.

"Stop it! You're going to hurt yourselves." Her voice was sharp and stern.

Cooke instantly snapped to attention. "Yes cap-"

A stray hand caught her in the jaw, as Mack and Jansen were still going at it. Cooke's vision went dark for just a second. One second, but it was just long enough for her to lose her footing and tumble sideways, between stalagmites, tumble towards the bubbling sea surrounding the path.

Pain, more than anything she had ever felt, seared along her entire right side. She tried to scream, but no sound came from her mouth. It was in her mouth, it was in her eyes, it was in her clothes and oh god, it felt like her skin was sloughing off, it felt like she was one, big, blister, it felt like she had been dropped into the sun.

Arms scrambled underneath her, cradled her, lifted her, dripping, from the sea of poison. She didn't know who. But somewhere dimly she thought they must be getting burned too, and she worried. She tried to open her eyes, but oh, they hurt, and she couldn't see. Someone was talking, someone was shouting, but it felt as if her ears were plugged. She could hear the muffled sounds, but could not make them out clearly.

She felt hands on either side of her head, over her ears, and when they were removed, ah! She could hear!

"Cooke! Can you hear me?"

"Yes, yes, yes," she said, but it came out garbled, a mess.

Someone cursed. Seth?

"We must get out of all the combat." Ming!

"Right." The arms lifted her once more, and then they were moving, and she was being jostled against a warm body. And it felt like forever, but then they stopped, and she was gently lowered on to the ground, and she felt very cold and hot at the same time.

"I must work quickly, or I won't be able to repair the damage." Ming again. "Seth, let me see your arm."

"No!" Cooke felt movement near her head.

"But Seth-"

"No. Cooke first. I'm fine."

And then cool hands ran down her face, over her eyes. They lifted her eyelids, and boy, this was weird, but they touched her right on her eyeballs, each one, and then she could see! Well, she saw light, and then shapes, and colors. Fingers gently probed her mouth, until she realized Ming must want to heal her tongue, so she opened her mouth and then-

"Augh!" She almost bit Ming's fingers before she could retract her hand. "Aunt Ming! Seth! Ah-" She had tried to shift, to get a better look at them leaning over her as her vision slowly returned to her, and sharp pain went all through her body. She moaned, and let her body go limp again.

"Shhh, you must let me finish, child." Ming's hands kept their course, travelling over every inch of Cooke's body, under her clothes (what was left of them) under her arms, under her budding breasts and behind her knees and every other place you can think of. Seth held her and stroked her hair.

And Cooke wasn't sure what came over her then, but suddenly a hot blush rose to her cheeks, and the two women felt very close, and very warm and somehow very alive, more so than they had ever felt to her before. As the pain receded and ebbed away, a different feeling took its place, a shiny feeling, a prickly, fiery, not altogether unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach. Thankfully, her whole body was a shiny pink, the color of newly healed skin after the scab falls off, so the women noticed nothing. They only kept healing her, sure to get everything.

"I can do nothing about the scars on your legs," Ming said finally. "I am sorry. That was the first part of your body to hit the poison, and so they suffered the longest."

Cooke glanced down, scanned her arms, shoulders, stomach, and, finally, her legs. Her legs were the only part of her not quite healed. They were a little scabby in places, as if she had touched her leg to the stove two days ago and it had only now begun to heal, and knotted with scars in others, but she was certain they looked far better than they had just moments before. Then she looked and Seth's arms, and gasped.

They were almost totally devoid of skin altogether, up to her elbows. Ming gasped then too, as she realized she had not yet attended to her friend.

"Oh no," she said. "Oh no, oh no, oh no." But she went to work immediately, flinching at Seth's winces of pain, and Cooke had her arms wrapped around Seth's middle, and, though she was still sore and her new skin felt itchy and uncomfortable when she moved, she comforted her captain.

"I'm okay, Cooke," Seth said gently. "Knock it off with the dramatics." So Cooke scooted to the edge of the path and sniffed, wiping her hand across her eyes.

"That's all I can do." Ming said, and her voice sounded strange.

Seth looked at her arms. She was quiet for a moment, and then shrugged. "It'll do."

Her arms were all scab, from the tips of her fingers to her elbows. When she clenched her hands in to fists, her knuckles began to bleed. When she brought herself up on her elbows, blood dripped down her wrist. But she acted as if all was fine, and held out a bloody hand to help Cooke to her feet.

"Um," Cooke said.

"Oh," Seth took her arm back. "Sorry."

Ming helped Cooke up instead. "With the magic I used on you, you should both be completely fine in about two days, except the scarring will stay on your legs and your arms. I have salve to ease the discomfort of the scabbing."

They walked together, back towards the sounds of Sarah and the boys, who were now calling for them.

"Here!" Seth said. "We're okay!" And she flipped back her hair.

Cooke's cheeks grew hot once more, but she couldn't, for the life of her, tell you why. And when Ming took her hand gently, an encouraging smile on her lips, and Cooke's stomach flip-flopped, why, she couldn't really explain that either. But something had definitely changed in Cooke, and thinking too much about it was making her a little uncomfortable, especially considering she had almost just died in what was basically a vat of acid.

Mack hugged her tight, sobbing, apologizing, but Cooke forgave him instantly, distracted by thoughts of gleaming pirate women of the seas and righteous queens and wondering just what was wrong with her to be thinking so much about other women in the way she was.


End file.
